


Emotions, when Expedient

by Starrie_Wolf



Series: Playing with Pendulums [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 11:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18893287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf
Summary: Kisuke doesn’t understand Ichigo at all. But he is so very grateful that he’s being given the space to figure everything out on his own.





	Emotions, when Expedient

**Author's Note:**

> UraIchi Week 2019  
> Day 1: Canon Divergence
> 
> Got a couple of reviews asking me to cover some stuff, this ficlet ought to have handled them.

Kisuke realises he’s misunderstood the moment poorly-concealed frustration flashes across Ichigo’s face and Yoruichi starts laughing her head off, in that obnoxious the way she does to draw attention off him.

Ichigo… doesn’t want a knife after all?

There hadn’t been any clues in the restaurant to suggest that he might need one, but it is also a mystery to Kisuke why Ichigo would slip a hand into his, the pads of his fingers stroking against his palm like he’s searching Kisuke for a hidden blade.

His thoughts are a mess. He’s glad he finished eating already, or he wouldn’t be able to take another bite. As things stand, his stomach is tying itself up in knots, trying to unravel the cause of this faux pas.

The lights are too bright, the chatter of conversation fading into the background. Kisuke would almost have thought he was drugged, except he had eaten nothing that was not vetted by Yoruichi, and if there is anyone he trusts in this world it is Yoruichi.

Ichigo’s hand is still on his leg, and it’s now rubbing gentle little circles on his knee, like Ichigo’s not quite aware he’s doing it. It’s kind of soothing, actually, a single point of contact keeping him anchored as the rest of the world slips past.

“Shall we?”

It takes Kisuke some effort to realise Ichigo is speaking directly to him, his volume kept low in a pretence at privacy. He blinks, and realises that everyone else is filing out of the restaurant, eyes politely averted but ears strained.

He nods wordlessly.

Ichigo’s hand slips off his knee as he gets up. He doesn’t offer Kisuke a hand up, but what he does can only be described as _hovering_ , even as he exchanges pleasantries and… jigoku-chō addresses with Tessai?

“Any friend of Kisuke’s is of course welcome to visit,” Ichigo is saying, when Kisuke finally manages to focus on the words and not just the tone of his voice. “Just send a butterfly ahead of time so that we know to prepare for an additional dinner guest.”

Tessai nods, his normally blank visage cracking into the barest hint of a smile.

Something flutters in Kisuke’s chest, light and airy, like bubbles popping.

* * *

It’s a warm, starry night.

Ichigo is clearly in no hurry to return home. It is a rest day for him tomorrow, Kisuke remembers, a day he often spends catching up with his sisters or his many friends. His hands are loose and open by his sides, his sleeve just barely brushing the hilt of his katana as he walks. They are walking close enough together that Ichigo’s shoulder occasionally brushes against his.

Kisuke finds that he does not mind.

“How are things going at the Second nowadays?” Ichigo suddenly asks.

Kisuke’s head comes up, stunned by the question. Ichigo’s gaze remains fixed in front of him, but Kisuke knows he has not misheard the question.

“It is…” he hesitates. “Missions have been completed at a satisfactory rate.”

A scowl settles onto Ichigo’s face. “No, I mean –” he cuts himself off with an explosive sigh. “How are your squadmates?”

Kisuke blinks. “They are… pleased with my progress?” At least, that is what he can conjecture from the monthly performance evaluations. It has been three months, two weeks and six days since his nuptials, and during the past four evaluations Kisuke has not been beaten even once for his missteps.

“That’s… that’s good,” Ichigo comments.

They fall into silence.

“And you?” Kisuke asks awkwardly. “How is the Eleventh?”

Ichigo blinks at him, like he’s temporarily forgotten the number of his own division. “Oh, uh. It’s… okay. I’d be happier if the captain actually does his goddamned paperwork once in a while, but Kiganjō is… well, you know.” He shrugs one shoulder expressively.

Kisuke _does_ know. Had he not slaughtered his way into a captaincy position before Central 46 could make up its august mind, Kiganjō Kenpachi would have been a candidate for the Maggot’s Nest. Although, now that he considers the matter at length…

“Does Kiganjō-taichō possess the ability to read and write?”

Ichigo barks out a sudden laugh. “You know, I’m not sure he does.”

* * *

The mood remains light as they enter the Shiba residence.

Despite the late hour, the kitchen light is still on, and Kisuke can hear Yuzu singing softly to herself as she prepares the bentos for the next morning.

“Good night, Kisuke.” Ichigo nods at him, as is his usual custom, and turns to head up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Good night,” Kisuke responds. He hesitates, weighing the various terms of address he has at his disposal. _Lieutenant Shiba_ is far too inadequate to show the full extent of his appreciation for the chance to catch up with his friends, and _Shiba-dono_ is confusing when everyone in this household is a Shiba by birth or marriage. “… Ichigo-san.”

Ichigo’s foot freezes on the stairs.

“U-uh. Night!” he yelps. He throws Kisuke an unreadable look, but he’s smiling as he hurries up the stairs, so it can’t be something bad then. Kisuke has learnt early on that Ichigo wears his emotions proudly on his sleeve, so very different from an Onmitsukidō operative that it still baffles him, but at least he has no need to guess at Ichigo’s moods, unlike Yoruichi.

Kisuke watches him beat a hasty retreat, bemused.

When he refocuses again, Ichigo’s sister is leaning against the kitchen door, spatula in hand. She’s also smiling, but then, Yuzu is almost always smiling.

It’s actually a little terrifying. Kisuke has never seen someone smile so much before.

“Thank you, Kisuke-san,” she chirps.

Kisuke blinks at her.

“For being here,” she clarifies, which does not explain anything at all. “Thanks to you, Ichi-nii comes home every day instead of sleeping in the barracks!”

Does he – Kisuke isn’t sure what this has to do with him, or why Yuzu deems this important. Perhaps she enjoys the ability to cook for five rather than three? It does seem to be an important hobby to her, and Kisuke can’t deny that her food is delicious.

“Good night, Kisuke-san!”

“Good night, Yuzu-san,” he responds on autopilot, as he ascends the stairs to his own room.

Perhaps Yuzu may prefer that Ichigo is sleeping at home, but Kisuke isn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t have preferred the barracks if given a choice. At the very least, he is less likely to be attacked unprovoked there.

As befitting any Onmitsukidō operative who has managed to keep themselves alive so far, Kisuke makes sure to secure his room every night before he dares to let his mind slip into true unconsciousness. A proximity ward spanning the room, covering all strategic entrance points. His futon laid against the wall, such that he can sleep on his left side with his back to the wall, a knife in his hand and another strapped to his thigh, his arms crossed over his chest for protection.

Once – after a mission that led him out into Rukongai for a week – Kisuke had been so tired that he had fallen asleep the moment he crawled into his room through the window.

He got about four hours.

By the time his mind caught up with his instinctual actions, it was with dawning horror that he realised his knife was drawing a thin line of blood across Ichigo’s throat.

He had yanked it back so fast than he fell over onto his ass, his heart hammering in his chest.

Kisuke didn’t know what to say.

It was with bated breath that he waited for Ichigo to kick him out of the house for good, but Ichigo had just picked himself up off the floor, apologised to him – to _him_! – for the uninvited intrusion, and scrambled through an explanation that Yuzu had made the leftovers from dinner into onigiri if Kisuke was hungry, since he had missed dinner the night before.

By morning, the matter is apparently forgotten, save for the fact that Ichigo has not attempted to enter Kisuke’s room uninvited again since that incident, even though this is _his house_ and he has every right.

No, Kisuke doesn’t understand Ichigo at all.

But he is so, _so_ grateful that he’s being given the space to figure it out on his own.

**Author's Note:**

> FwF: shit gets real XD
> 
> [cywscross's UraIchi Discord server](https://discordapp.com/invite/ADFnKTZ#_=_) | [Starrie's fic sneak preview server](https://discord.gg/8yJVmbD) | [Starrie's Tumblr](http://starriewolf.tumblr.com)


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